Never-Ending
by EverythingAtOnce
Summary: It was a one-way trip. Either she continued going up, or she allowed herself to go down. She was torn. She had to hurry and make a decision...


**Hey guys! So, I put up my next update date...and this is a one-shot I thought I'd write for Halloween - not that this is spooky or anything. It's far from that. It's just a story I'm sure you'll all hate. It's okay, though. **

**OH, and this is not the one-shot I said I was working on. I'm still working on it, and it's totally going to be longer than this 4204 worded piece of whatever it is.**

**I'll warn you now, I did no read over this, so if there is some random, gibberish going on, that's my fault. I will go over this someday, when I have the time, and fix whatever I can...but just not today. I really just wanted to post something for Halloween, which is why I'm posting something that's not quite polished. Yeah, I know...that's not very smart.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Alvin and the Chipmunks.**

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><p>It was pouring rain outside, and it seemed as if the world was crying. The clouds were dark—darker than the usual gray they normally were when it rained. Thunder was rumbling like the start of an earthquake, and the few streaks of white flashing light that flashed like a photograph getting taken caused each silhouette of every living creature and object freeze for just a split-second, before the frozen image resumed on with its movements. There was something a little eerie about the air on this very day, and it wasn't some spooky feeling you get when you step inside a building that had been abandoned for years on end. No…it was much more different. It felt wrong in the air—it felt like nobody should be out and about—like everyone should just stay in and talk to their loneliness until the sun came out and chased away every bad shadow in the streets. But no one paid any attention to the fearful tears and dark mysterious clouds that appeared out of nowhere, shadowing darkly over the streets of New York, covering everything in the world's clear blood. For Brittany Miller, this just meant traffic would be slow and she'd be late to this meeting her boss had called her in for this morning.<p>

She was already furious and mad enough that the other day her co-worker spilled their heated cup of coffee all over her paperwork, drowning the black typed words with its dirty mud—she waited _forever _just for the stupid printer to finish printing out those fifty sheets of paper! And she still needed to go reprint what was damaged—there goes another couple of wasted trees! She knew that that co-worker was a klutz, but she had _no _idea they were _this _bad. The only thing that stopped her from straight up firing that co-worker was because in another life she once lived, she had to deal with someone who was a bit of a klutz every single second and day of her life. No one where she worked at knew about her past life—not even her closest friends—but that's just how she preferred it.

No one knew anything about her background—which was good. In fact, perfect.

As long as the people she worked with had no knowledge of her past life, then it'd be easier for her to not feel so guilty for leaving and moving on. She was growing, and she's worked so hard to make it this far. No way was she going to let anything from her past drag her down—not even if she wanted to turn around and step back down a step from her tall and mighty view. It was far too late now to do that.

"That'll be—" the taxi driver began as he pulled up to the curb, but Brittany quickly cut him off.

"Here!" she shoved him twenty-five dollars. "Take it _all_—no need to pay me the change!" she huffed, first opening her bright red umbrella before she stepped out of the yellow, checkered car. Quickly she slammed the car door and ran up to the large white building in front of her, stopping at the doorway when she approached it, quickly shaking her umbrella from the sticking droplets that slipped and bounced off of the red, slick material, before she composed herself and stepped in with a heightened air around her.

Her red-based, pointed heels _clacked_ against the ground strictly, and the black color that presented the shoe itself and matched with her black tights that hugged her slim long legs caused people to stare and hold their breath a little. She was gorgeous—she knew that—she had a body like a model—she knew this as well—but that's not what caused the people to stop and stare. She also knew that. They were staring at her because they feared her—she wasn't exactly approachable. The air she carried with her was like a repellent to certain people.

Regular people stayed away from her—even certain celebrities kept their distance—they knew better than to approach her. Only socialites and high-classed people talked to her. Those who felt comfortable in her presence could talk to her and carry a formal, normal conversation. For those who could barely utter a word because they felt so out of place and small before her either moved out of her way naturally like a retracting magnet, or they just held their breath and made sure to keep their eyes away from her striking blue ones. Even those who highly disliked her and wanted to curse her down to the grave never spoke up against her in her presence. She was just naturally feared.

As she walked confidently past the front desk, the clerk who was talking to someone on the phone suddenly called out her name timidly, yet frantically, his eyes widening as she walked by. She halted, and turned, her black, flared tulle skirt gliding effortlessly with her movement. Heaving out a sigh, she stepped up to the front desk and raised her strictly shaped eyebrows. Her red, matte lips that were shaped perfectly enhanced her fair skin, and her manicured hands that were red-painted glistened as she crossed her arms and rested them against the raised front desk; she began to tap her well-groomed, pristine fingers against the white marble top.

The clerk dropped his gaze, barely able to even speak words without mumbling them and making them indecipherable. Brittany's blazing ice blue eyes widened as soon as he got his point across. "_What?!" _she exclaimed, causing a few staring eyes to flinch away. She took in a deep breath, slamming her free hand down, that didn't hold her red umbrella, on the marble countertop, causing the clerk to jump. Instantly she stormed off on her way, looking for a clock. When she found the taunting white face, teasing her with its pointing hands, her heart skipped a beat and she rushed her way over to the closing elevator.

"Wait—wait—wait!" she breathlessly called out, trying her best to run in her heels. _No…I can't miss the elevator! I can't! I won't make it in time! _she panicked inwardly.

Suddenly one of the men in there placed his hand between the closing elevator door, his hand shooting out like a bullet, and the elevator doors reopened. Brittany quickly rushed inside the elevator, thanking the man, before turning to mind her own business. She took notice that the people, other than the man behind her who practically saved her life by stalling the close of the doors, had edged away from her. She could feel and tell they felt uncomfortable, but she shrugged it off.

By the time the elevator doors closed, she glanced over to the many round buttons. Numbers 9, 15, 34, 36, and 47 were glowing a dim yellow. She softly sighed, hanging her red umbrella on her left wrist before pressing the button with the numbers "50" on it. That was the highest level. Inside this building, it was the main placeholder for a lot of important things. It didn't consist of just one thing—it had a vast variety of things. Each level was different and contained something that would help increase fame for the person who matched the requirements and fitted into the career of the level. If you got invited to the floor that contained your expertise, that meant you held a high place of fame in the world; no one ever turns these invitations down. It's practically considered an honor to be called to the level you expertise in.

This building was very well structured and organized—even the number of floors had a significant meaning. The lower the level number was, the less important it was to the world; the higher the number, the bigger the importance it was. Of course, all levels were significantly important, but some had more spotlights on it and brought in a better paycheck than others. For example, level 21 in the building was a room to produce commercials for doctors, whereas level 41 was a room to come in and audition for roles in movies by famous directors. Each level was supposed to help promote you in whatever career pathway you took.

Brittany quickly began fixing and readjusting her black, tight fitting top that was tucked neatly into her skirt. This was going to be a long ride, so she may as well make herself look a little more presentable. That running probably messed up her appearance in _some _way. She sighed as she finished fixing her outfit. The reason why she suddenly was in an urgent rush was because the clerk had told her her meeting had changed times to being ten minutes earlier than it originally was, and she barely had enough time to get to the 50th floor on time. It normally took about 7 minutes to get to the top floor, and far much more if you took the stairs. If she had missed this elevator, she would've been _doomed. _It was practically breaking the law to be late to one of these meetings in this building.

After she recomposed her jewelry she wore around her wrists and fingers, she then pulled out a small, light pink compact mirror from her gold-chained, strap, black purse. Staring at her flawless face and quickly fixing her shiny hair in its high ponytail, she then froze. _Wait…_ Hadn't she seen those faces before? The faces of the people in the elevator with her—she's seen them before. Blinking, she continued on with "fixing" her appearance, and angled her mirror over to the man beside her. He was tall and lean, and he looked quite intelligent with his round, black-rimmed glasses—even his clothes spoke of his intellectual for him. Her eyebrows furrowed.

Gritting her teeth, she then managed to angle her small, round mirror over to the next figure beside the man, without looking too obvious—it was a girl. The sight of her caused Brittany's heartbeat to quicken, and she angled her mirror away from the girl, refusing to examine her features like she did on the man, and moved on to the boy behind the slim girl. He was a little short, slightly big—

She quickly moved her mirror on to girl beside the boy, quickly retreating from the reflected image once more and moving her mirror in the empty space between the girl and the man she knew was behind her. Her stomach began to have butterflies, and her heartbeat began to quicken to the pace of a hummingbirds wing. Pursing her lips, she took in a deep breath, and slowly began angling her mirror to the man behind her.

Her skin suddenly became cold, and she was shaking on the inside. _No…_ Her voice echoed within her head. _No…please no. Please don't be him, please don't be him… _She swallowed her building saliva, and her hand accidentally moved too quickly, reflecting the man behind her. She nearly had a heart attack. He was staring at her…his sky blue eyes…they were looking directly at her. She was stunned and paralyzed. For what felt like much too long, she continued to lock her gaze at him through her mirror. Suddenly her hand grew week, and her compact mirror slipped right out of her hand.

As her compact mirror hit the ground and rolled over to her right, in the direction the people beside her stood still, all eyes in the elevator trailed after the small mirror until it hit the wall and fell, motionless. The silent in the air suddenly became thick and eerie, causing Brittany to realize how awkward and strange the air felt.

Her stomach fluttered, and the air suddenly felt colder to her skin. She felt the chills slowly creep up her spine, its unnerving breath spreading across her neck and down her shoulders, traveling down her entire body like a disease. She slowly picked her gaze up to really look at the people beside her, and ever so slowly, she fixed her gaze forward and away. No one bothered to pick up the compact mirror—no one even moved a step. Brittany grabbed her umbrella, squeezing it tightly like it was someone's neck. She had never felt so uncomfortable in her entire life until now.

In the elevator, it felt like the elevator wasn't even escalating up. It felt still. No one glanced at each other.

_Ding._

Suddenly the elevator doors open, and everyone jumped. They had arrived at level 9.

At first, no one moved, and it felt like time had slowed down, for the doors weren't closing, after what felt like a good few minutes had passed. Finally Brittany heard someone shuffle their feet, and the short, big man standing in the far back corner, behind the slim, brown-haired girl, moved forward, appearing as if he were trying his best to not make any contact with anything or anyone. He slowly walked out of the elevator, and the door closed.

Everyone in the elevator edged in their steps and evened out the space between each of them. Now there weren't six people anymore—the number had died down to five.

Once again, a thickening silence that felt unbearable and unbreathable overcame everyone. And just like before, the time felt like it was stretching, and that the elevator was taking its sweet, precious time to get on with moving upwards, to the next designated floors.

_Ding._

Everyone jumped, and Brittany's heart skipped a beat.

The doors slowly opened like it was a stress to do so, and it seemed like glue were trying to hold it down in its thick, white goop. This time there was no waiting for whoever had this floor to get off, for the girl standing in the back, who had blonde hair and wore a bright green dress, took no time to quickly evacuate from the thick, eerie silence. The doors slowly glided shut, swallowing the girl from Brittany's view.

The thick silence didn't feel any lighter from the absence of the boy and girl. In fact, for Brittany, it only thickened, making her feel like she was in honey, drowning. Her grip tightened on the umbrella. The time was expanding, and the elevator was taking even more time to get to the next level.

A decade was passing.

_Ding._

This time no one jumped, for they were prepared. It took a moment, just like the first boy, but the other girl, tall and slim, quickly stumbled out of the elevator, her quickness covering up her strange footing saving her from appearing out of the ordinary as she stepped foot out of the elevator. The doors shut, and now Brittany was alone with two other men.

Once again, each of them spaced themselves evenly out from one another, not once uttering a sound or word. The unnerving silence had turned into feeling like trying to swim in cement that had already dried.

A millennium was passing. But then—

_Ding._

The doors opened. All three passengers on the elevator just stood there like statues, staring like they were waiting for something tremendous to happen. The only tremendous thing that happened was the fact that the tall, slim man in the glasses finally moved. His shoulders were stiff, and he seemed like he were holding his breath, as he stepped out of the elevator. Brittany could feel her heartbeat bring up its pace. Now the number had officially died down to two passengers. To say she felt simply just _uncomfortable _was a bit of an understatement. Now she was alone with _him. _It was like he had come back from the dead and was now had come back to haunt her. He had long died in her world a long time ago. There was no need to bring him back into her life. She killed him—completely _erased _him. That meant: he shouldn't even be standing this close to her—he should be a thousand miles away from her.

In fact, everyone who was on this elevator trip died a long time ago in her world. Not a single one of them should've even been standing this close to her—she shouldn't have even _seen _them. Just one glance and everything could go crashing down on her…

As the elevator doors slowly closed, sealing shut, the silence was now somehow creating her adrenaline to increase and overflow throughout her blood. She felt like she was on some sort of drug. Her heart was freaking out, her mind was going out of control, and her body was paralyzed. She suddenly became aware that a pair of eyes were staring at her—and she knew this wasn't just some _feeling _she was getting—it was a factual reality. Someone was staring at her—_he _was staring at her. It had been so long since she's actually stared into his eyes...she so badly wanted to just have a moment to glance at them, or at least stare at them…but _no…_ She couldn't…

Sure, she made eye contact with him through her mirror, but that wasn't real. That was fake. It was substituted. It wasn't looking at the real thing.

_Silence._

It was so unnerving. It was far too still…far too…quiet.

But suddenly, he moved. She could hear his soft footsteps coming up to stand beside her. She only held her breath at this, keeping her ice blue eyes glued straight ahead. She could sense him on her right. His presence was like a ghost. It felt strange…weird…abnormal…she was terrified. She could feel his eyes boring into her again.

"Brittany," he suddenly spoke, and she gasped, her lack of oxygen getting the best of her. "Look at me."

She kept her head still.

"_Look at me,_ Brittany—that's all I'm asking," he softly spoke. His voice was smooth, yet fierce—which scared her.

She heard him heave out a sigh, and the heavy weight she felt on her lifted. _He was no longer looking at her. _She blinked, glancing up to see what number the elevator was on. _Com on…come on, come on, come on…hurry! _she shouted inwardly at the slow numbers that were changing at the top. Before anything that would completely alternate the direction she was heading in life changed. She _chose _this path, she had worked so hard to make it in the fashion world—most people rarely ever make it as far as she's come—she couldn't just throw everything away. If she looked at him in the eyes, that would change everything. She would no longer have time to deal with the things she wanted to have time for. Her time was limited. Either she spent all of her effort in something or she didn't. It was as simple as that. If he were to suddenly come back from the dead in her world, she would have to choose between the two things she loved most, and that would be so hard.

There was a reason why she killed him off…why she cut off all contact with him, her sisters, his brothers—everyone she used to know in her past life. And it seemed like they, just like her, cut each other off as well. Heck, if even her baby sister and his youngest brother weren't even on talking terms, then that meant something. If her other sister and his other brother weren't even looking at one another, then that meant something also. And now it was her turn to keep this pattern and make sure it doesn't break. If she can manage to not ever get on speaking, or optical terms with him, then that will mean something as well. It will mean that things are the way they are, and that there is nothing that can be done to change it. It's meant to be—they were never supposed to even have met each other. It was all a mistake… _Right._

_They're a mistake…_ She quietly thought to herself. _He's a mistake. He was never meant to meet you—both him and his brothers, and you and your sisters… You were never supposed meet them. Especially him. He's only going to drag you down. You've worked too hard—come too far. It's too late now. There's no turning back—no looking back. Maybe if you weren't this far and still were just barely starting off, you'd be able to allow it. You'd be able to look at him in the eyes, and allow him to turn you around and come down those first few steps you had just taken, and start over. But you can't, for you are actually this far in life, and you've reached so high up those steps, you can now only move up. You've lucked out Brittany. You've already completely chosen to take this path, and when you took this path, you knew there was a price to pay—that there's be consequences—which you've paid plenty…. But now, there's one more price for you to pay and that is: everyone from your past life must remain dead._

Dead.

He needed to remain dead.

And that's just what she did. She kept him dead—at least she was going to try to keep him buried. She wasn't going to give in to the temptations her eyes were dying to take. Giving in to these temptations was just like her taking a bite out of a poison apple. It was like her killing herself off.

_ Ding._

The sound sounded like a death toll. It sounded like a bell people would ring when someone had died.

She saw him move out of the corner of her eye. He wasn't walking out of the elevator like he should've been doing…instead, he was… Her chest compressed. He was grabbing her compact mirror. _Put it down…don't give it to me…I don't need it…I don't want it…_

"Here…" He held his hand out right in front of her, and in the palm of his hand was her mirror.

She took in a deep breath, gripping onto her red umbrella even tighter. "Keep it," she spoke through gritted teeth, "I don't _want _it."

For a while, his hand was frozen, and he just stood still.

An eternity had passed.

He finally moved, and stepped out of the elevator, still holding her compact mirror. She watched at his figure stepped out of the elevator. She stared at the back of his form. He still hadn't changed. He still was the same person she knew back before…_you killed him._

The elevator doors closed, and the trip up to her floor only lasted about a second. Before she knew it, her own death bell had rung.

_Ding._

She froze, watching as the doors before her glided open. It was her turn now. As soon as she stepped outside of this elevator, she'd be officially killing off her former self. Then there would be absolutely no take-backs from here on out. Sucking in a deep breath, she slowly stepped out of the elevator.

When she heard the elevator doors, she so badly wanted to look behind her—_but no. _She had to stay firm with herself. There was no need to look back now. She was escalating—she was on her way up—she was moving forward, and that's the only direction she should look. She should never look back…

And in the end, she never did look back.

Now little did she or any of the other five passengers on the elevator know, was that each and every single one of them looked back as soon as the elevator doors closed, and they all wondered "Why did I just let that happen?" Everyone except her, of course, because she was brand new now. She had left her old self to completely rot in that elevator as soon as she stepped out; and when the elevator reaches the bottom, her old self will get taken away and buried deep beneath the ground. By the time she reentered through those elevator doors to leave this building, she'd never be the same again, because she had chosen to stay moving forward. That was all she could do.

Either she could choose to escalate, or she could choose to let everything go down and she'd continue going down until she found something new and worthwhile to escalate in. She had chosen to continue escalating, for she knew that if she chose to look back, her process of going up and down would continue, and she'd never be able to stop. Once she stepped foot in the negative boundaries, she'd never be able to completely get out of its grasp, and she didn't want to have to continue dealing with failures in life. She wanted to just deal with her successes, and stay in the positive zone. It'd be torture for her to have to go through failure over and over again. It'd never stop. This process was never-ending.

Brittany sighed, stepping forward to the doors across from her. But before she entered in through the doors, she pulled out something from her purse. She pulled out another compact mirror that was slightly bigger than her other one, and was square-shaped. Opening the compact mirror, she looked at the reflection she could see.

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><p><em>Alternate Ending:<em>

Opening the compact mirror, she looked at the reflection and found herself staring into a pair of sky blue eyes.

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><p><strong>Hmmm...okay, so...originally I was going to have this end unhappy, where they all never go after each other, but...then I suddenly had this idea when I was writing the last sentence that would instantly change this story to a more uplifting one...and then I got torn, so I decided to put an alternate ending because...yeah. I just had to. So you have two endings: one where she never turns back, and one that implies she actually may turn back. I don't know. You tell me what that alternate ending means.<strong>

**And to cover this up now, in my mind, for the levels Theodore, Eleanor, Jeanette, Simon, Alvin, and Brittany went on in the building, in my mind they were something like:**

**For Theodore: I imagined him going on some sort of cooking commercial**

**For Eleanor: I imagined her level leading her to some studio that allowed her to be able to feature in some sort of TV show/cook show**

**For Jeanette: something about what company would publish her literature or whatever**

**For Simon: he'd get assigned to work with some science-y stuff for the level he went on?**

**For Alvin: he was getting his music published by some amazing record company or whatever**

**For Brittany: her level was leading to her boss' office (which I'd imagine her boss to be someone like Anna Wintour) and she was getting some grand promotion**

**Honestly, this story was supposed to be really open to what you guys think/thought. And I'm curious of what your guys' impressions are and what you think. This story is so weird, I know, and I also know that that building I have in there is strange too. It was so complicated for me to explain it, so forgive me if it's a bit terrible and a disgrace to writing. :P**

**Oh and look at how long my author note is. This is terrible. Ugh, sorry that I write long author notes sometimes. **

**Anyways, thanks so much for reading, and happy November 1st! :D**


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